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“You send me the bullet and I’ll run the ballistics.”
“I have a better lab than the state.”
“Maybe, but this is a murder that occurred in my jurisdiction. If I send you the gun, I want a receipt stating that it will be returned when the ballistics have been run.”
“Okay.”
“Something else. After Carlos was spotted at the range, I think he was hired by a guy named Pio Pellegrino, who runs a restaurant.”
“Pellegrino’s? I’ve eaten there. Good place, if you can get a table.”
“I’d like you to run a check on Pio’s background, his father’s, too, see if they’re connected, and if so, to whom.”
Harry was taking notes now. “What’s his father’s name?”
“I don’t know. Try the phone book.”
“I’ll see that it’s run down.”
“Harry, if Pellegrino isn’t running this thing, then he’s connected to whoever is, so don’t start walking all over this with your big FBI feet, okay? Don’t bring him in for questioning, and if you have him watched, for God’s sake don’t park an FBI van outside his door. Be subtle, Harry.”
“We’re always subtle,” Harry replied.
“Like the green SUV with the two agents inside that was parked at the Santa Maria church? Like the female agent you had following me when I was shopping for shoes? Please.”
“I’ll take special steps,” Harry said through clenched teeth.
“What’s Grant Early working on, Harry?”
“That’s not relevant.”
“So what happened to the two-way information highway, Harry?”
“It’s not relevant.”
“I should have known you’d do this. I spill everything I’ve got, saving you many man-hours of legwork, and you stonewall me.”
“Holly, I mean it, Grant’s case is not relevant to your investigation; it’s a whole separate thing.”
Holly sighed. “Harry, if I find out it isn’t, I’m going to come over to your house and shoot you in your sleep.”
“It’s a federal crime to threaten an FBI agent, Holly.”
“So, arrest me.”
Harry smirked at her. “Not yet.”
“Not while I’m doing your work for you, huh?”
“You’re not doing my work for me; this stuff is just frosting on the cake.”
“I want to hear about the Pellegrinos by lunchtime tomorrow,” Holly said, sliding her card across the table. “My cellphone number is on the card.”
Harry pocketed the card. “I’ll be in touch,” he said, getting up and tossing a five-dollar bill onto the table.
“The drink’s on me, Harry,” Holly said.
“Gee, thanks,” Harry replied, picking up the note. “Talk to you tomorrow.” He walked away.
